


Overflow

by UbiquitousMixie



Category: Chilling Adventures of Sabrina (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-04
Updated: 2018-12-04
Packaged: 2019-09-06 23:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 969
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16842484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UbiquitousMixie/pseuds/UbiquitousMixie
Summary: Zelda wouldn't have it any other way.





	Overflow

**Author's Note:**

> Whelp. CAOS has taken over my life, and I'm pretty okay with it. I'm obsessed with this pairing. Comments are my life-force, so please let me know what you think!   
> Title is from "What the Water Gave Me" by Florence and the Machine.

Her bathwater is too hot, which is exactly how Zelda prefers it. She has only just settled back against the spacious tub and her pale breasts are already splotched pink. She sneaks a glance in the large mirror in the corner of the room, admiring the sight of her flushed cheeks and her strawberry blonde hair piled atop her head as steam curls around her. 

She looks delicious. A shame, really, that she’s alone. 

Zelda closes her eyes, sinking deeper into the bath. She can feel the day’s stresses beginning to dissipate, and she is immensely grateful for the reprieve. With Sabrina spending more time at the Academy, Ambrose tending to the stolen infant, and Hilda running off to her insipid mortal job at every opportunity, Zelda is finally able to think of herself. 

A draft enters the room as the door opens, and Zelda does not need to open her eyes to recognize the footstep of her interloper. “Is there some reason why you are interrupting my bath?” Zelda looks at her then, raising an imperious eyebrow. 

“The Bride of Frankenstein said you were in here,” Mary Wardwell says, the ghost of a smile playing at her lips. 

“And you took that as an invitation?” 

“You _did_ invite me, Zelda, or had you forgotten?” 

Zelda rolls her eyes. “Yes -- two hours ago.” 

“Oh, Zelda, don’t be cross with me.” She steps closer, and Zelda casts an appraising eye over the blue dress that fits Mary like a glove. “Do you have any idea how demanding and time-consuming it is to provide tutelage to your niece?” 

Zelda snorts. Yes, Mary certainly has a point: Sabrina is an exacting student, always wanting to skip to the most advanced subjects before even mastering the basics. Still, Zelda is not accustomed to being kept waiting. “So it is.” Zelda’s heart beats faster as Mary perches herself on the edge of the tub, her cheeks flushing as the raven-haired witch examines the sight of her. The intensity of those calculating, ice-blue eyes unsettles her. “Well? How is she doing, then?” 

Mary’s lips curl into a smile. “We both know you didn’t ask me here to discuss Sabrina’s studies.” 

Zelda doesn’t respond -- she won’t give Mary Wardwell the satisfaction of admitting that she’s right. She shrugs dismissively, knowing full well that Mary sees right through her. 

Mary guides Zelda’s arms out of the bath, resting each of them on a side of the bathtub. Zelda cannot help but watch the milky water roll down the tub, collecting in the fabric of Mary’s skirt. The dark-haired witch hardly seems to notice. “We both know,” Mary says slowly, dangerously, her eyes darkening as she reaches into the bathwater, “why you asked me here.” 

Zelda grips the bathtub as Mary’s fingers immediately steal between her legs, parting already-swollen lips to discover viscous moisture that has been ubiquitous in Mary’s presence. 

Mary chuckles, moving her fingers delicately to acquaint herself with the wetness that has nothing to do with bathwater. “Oh, you’re not cross at all, are you?” She slips one finger inside, chuckling as she notes just how little resistance she meets. “Not cross at all.” 

Zelda tilts her head back against the tub, closing her eyes as pleasure skitters along her nerve endings. It’s been decades since she’s had a lover that has made her feel this way, and longer still since that lover has been female. There’s something inexplicable about Mary Wardwell, something compelling, that Zelda can’t quite name, and she is more than willing to indulge in slaking her thirst while she figures it out. 

“In fact, I’d guess that you’ve been thinking about me all day, haven’t you?” 

Mary stills her fingers until Zelda nods, pink-cheeked. 

“I can tell. You were wet and thinking about me while you dissected the local milkman. You were wet and wanting me while you talked to your sister and your niece at lunchtime. You were wet and thinking of me while you waited for me to arrive, knowing all the while that I would come. Isn’t that right?” 

Mary meets the first finger with a second, and the bathwater ripples as Zelda spreads her legs as wide as the bath will allow. She bites her lip and says, “Yes.”

Mary is satisfied with this response and grinds the heel of her palm against Zelda’s aching clitoris, finally bestowing the touch she craves. She cries out, at once grateful that the house is nearly empty, knowing that Ambrose’s music is too loud for him (or the baby) to hear. She grips the tub tighter in her hands, her knuckles turning white as she strains to avoid twisting her body, knowing she will soak the entire bathroom (and Mary Wardwell) if she does. She settles for coming with a loud cry, grinding her hips against the firm, insistent press of Mary’s fingers. 

It takes a moment for Zelda to return to herself, and when she does, she recognizes immediately that Mary’s fingers are gone, being rinsed in the bathwater. Zelda closes her legs. 

“You could join me,” Zelda proposes, knowing as the words leave her mouth that Mary will decline. Still, she’s disappointed when she does.

“Another night,” Mary promises, wiping her hands on Zelda’s nearby towel. “I won’t have nearly enough time tonight to do what I please before we’re interrupted.” She pauses, tilting her ear toward the attic. As if on cue, the baby begins to cry. Mary tilts her head toward the door. “That’s my cue.” 

Zelda accepts this and nods, holding back any words that may sound like begging. She cannot afford to sound needy, cannot afford to push anyone else away. She’ll settle for companionship in whichever way she can get it. Mary blows her a kiss from the doorway, and then she’s gone. 

\---


End file.
